The 50th Hunger Games Haymitch's POV
by HGRebels
Summary: Basically, this is a short story about the 50th Hunger Games from Haymitch's POV. I really enjoyed learning about it in 'Catching Fire' so I thought I'd write a short story for it. Excuse my spelling. This is my first FF so its not brilliant


He grabs me by the back, knife to my throat, ready to slash. I can't complain, this is the Hunger Games afterall and I'd just killed his two fellow career tributes with just a knife. He had nobody left. Suddenly I feel the boy loosen his grip and slither down my back. A cannon fires and I turn around to see the career tribute sprawled across the floor on his front, dart in his back. "Don't I get a thank you?" an angelic voice springs in to my ear. I recognise that voice and look up to see my fellow District 12 tribute, Maysilee Donner beaming at me. I've never really spoken to Maysilee Donner before. Sometimes we exchange a hello in the morning as we pass eachother through school but thats about it. I was just staring in to the face of death and now Im staring into the face of pure beauty. "I didn't need your help" I snap. Her smile fades as she scowls at me and suddenly, shes not so pretty. "If it wasn't for me you'd of got your throat slashed" she shoots back. "Okay" I mutter, not meaning a word that I say "thank you for sparing me my life". I know that I'll die sooner or later so none of this really matters. Her beam brightens up again and I feel myelf blushing. "So" Maysilee says, sitting beside me on the grass "how's about we ally up? I'm bored of runnning around these woods on my own and I can tell by the bags under your eyes and the dirt on your, well, everywhere that you could use me". I take a long hard think about this. I could do with a partner in crime. Im hungry, tired, lonely and in need of a good wash. It'd be nice to have someone there to watch my back and to catch food for me, I've been living off berries and plants for the last few days. Maysilee puts her hand out for me and I shake it, "deal" I say. I'm slightly worried about this arrangement. In a couple of days or so it will be time for the last few tributes to kill eachother off to claim the prize as the winner and, Maysilee is quite handy with a dart and I have nothing but a knife. Lets just hope someone kills her before I have to.

What feels like weeks go by, dragging one day after the other, whilst me and Maysilee track ourselves to the edge of the arena. Were hoping we can find something usefull there. I can tell by the atmosphere theres few of us left. Around 14 cannons have gone off since my encounter with Maysilee so my guess is theres six of us left. Six. Six out of 48 children left. The Hunger Games have always been stupid in my eyes but every year, at least 23 tributes die. This year the Gamemakers decided to be even bigger idiots and double the amount of tributes put in for the 2nd Quarter Quell. How could the capitol do this? Would they like it if we used their children in these horrific games? No. Thats the answer to that, no, so why do they do it to us? These questions quickly vanish from my mind as Maysilee tells me something I don't wish to hear "theres nothing here Haymitch, maybe we should just turn back". I laugh as if she'd just told me a joke. "We have been travelling for days Maysilee, I'm not turning back now. The other tributes won't find us here, they'll be spread across the middle of the arena" I reply. Maysilee's beautiful face turns ugly again "well, you stay here then and starve to death. I'm going back to find myself a comfy place to stay for the last days, or maybe hours that I have left of my life" she spits. She storms away from me as I yell a distant "FINE!" "Fine!" she shouts back. At that moment my heart tears in to two, realising I'll be left alone once again to fend for myself with nothing but a knife and the clothes on my back.

Anger hits me. I kick a pebble as far as I can off the edge of the cliff and to my suprise, it bounces right back up and lands straight in front of me. I do this again a few times, throwing pebbles off the edge of the cliff, and each one springs back up like the last. I figure out that a force field is shooting them back up and this is put there just incase any tributes feel the need to jump off the edge instead of fighting it out to the death, which is exactly what the Gamemakers don't want. I decide to stay here. It seems safe to me. Suddenly, a loud, peircing scream echos from the trees. My ears prick up and my stomach clenches. I know who this scream belongs to, I know this very well. This scream belongs to Maysilee.  
I run as fast as I can in to the woods, shouting her name, following her terrorfying yells. I have my knife in my right hand, ready to pounce on whoever is attacking Maysilee. As I get there, the screams are dying down and I don't see a tribute hacking at her body, I see a deadly pink bird pecking deep in to her neck. I throw my knife and it hits the pink bird in its stomach. "Maysilee" I say, crouching beside her, holding her battered body as she stares me in the eyes. "Thank-you" she stutters, trying to get her words out. A tear rolls down my cheek and lands on to hers. "I'm so sorry. I should of come with you, I should of convinced you to stay" my words come out fast as she shakes her head and smiles at me. "All you have to do now Haymitch is win. For me, for your family and most importently, for yourself. Promise me that",her words are slurred. Her eyes fade off in to the distance and I cant feel her pretty little heart beat anymore. I take Maysilees hand and kiss it, "I promise" I say. The cannon fires. Dead.

Theres 2 of us left. Just 2. I know exactly who my victim is, district 1's girl tribute. I would never hurt a lady but I guess if shes trying to kill me I can make an acception. I can sense she's near. I hide in a bush until I feel its safe enough to "come out to play". I have nothing but a knife on me as I didn't think Maysilee's darts would do me much help. Theres nothing left to do now but wait. Just sat, waiting. Waiting for my victory or waiting for my death. I hear a snap of a twig behind me and I quietly duck down further, deep in to the bush. Footsteps slice through the ground and as they get louder, I clasp my knife even tighter, ready to pounce. A few minutes later and the footsteps fade out. I step out of the bush and start walking to the edge of the arena again. Half way there a peircing pain sours through my left leg. I look down to see an axe jammed into my calf. Shes spotted me. I turn around to see District 1 running at me, I lift up my knife as she approaches me and stab it in to her face, slicing out one of her eyes. She then redeams the axe and jams it in to my stomach, leaving a huge gash. I cry out in pain. "Sorry District 12, there can only be one victor, and that victor is going to be me" she says, laughing. "Oh yeah?" I reply. I run up to the edge of the cliff, holding in my intestines as she smiles at me. Thats just being cocky. She throws her axe as hard as she can and I duck. The axe falls over the edge of the cliff and in to the force field. She stands there, obviousaly just waiting for me to die, as the axe shoots back up and plunges in to her skull. I fall to the ground, just lay there, as the cannon fires and a voice comes through the speakers, shocked. "Ladies and Gentleman, I am pleased to announce the victor of the 50th Hunger Games, Haymitch Abernathy! I give you - the tribute of District 12!"

Its been two weeks since The Hunger Games and my whole world has crumbled in my hands. My mum, brother and girlfriend have all been killed by President Snow. Apparently, using the forcefield as a weapon is considered trying to 'pull one over' on the Gamemakers, to make them look like fools. I never intended to do this, I was just trying my best to stay alive. For many years I will be the mentor for poor, hopeless young boys and girls. The horror of The Hunger Games will forever remain for me. Theres no way of getting out, not now, not ever. 


End file.
